


so give me your heart and off we'll go

by glueskin



Series: goodbye, summer wars [3]
Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Coming Out, Confessions, F/F, For Kido's backstory...if you know you know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Transgender Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 23:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glueskin/pseuds/glueskin
Summary: kisaragi momo has a confession to make. she really shouldn't have been so worried.
Relationships: Implied Kokonose Haruka/Kisaragi Shintaro, Kido Tsubomi/Kisaragi Momo
Series: goodbye, summer wars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783648
Kudos: 3





	so give me your heart and off we'll go

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again in kagepro hell! 
> 
> this time i wrote about momo and kido and their feelings for each other. ive never written either of them this much before so i was worried but i think it turned out okay
> 
> i want...to write more...i have 1525342 little scenes in my head for all of the main cast that i want to write about...so...youll be seeing me again soon

It’s spring and Kisaragi Momo is in love.  
  
She’s a girl who holds a lot of love in her heart but she’s never been _in_ love before—not like this. She’s had fleeting crushes on upperclassmen who would grow to resent her for what she is, crushes on celebrities who were safe to love because they would never know who she is—at least, before her idol career had kickstarted itself.  
  
This is different.  
  
This is a heart-pounding, stomach-churning sort of love. It makes her feel terrified and elated at all once. She’s never looked at someone and felt such dizzying joy before meeting Kido Tsubomi.  
  
It isn’t new. She’s been feeling like this for months but now she’s going to do something about it.  
  
Momo had planned to wait longer. To feel things out a bit more, to be sure that Kido felt the same or at least make sure she likes girls—but then her manager had found some of the songs she had written with Kido in mind and wants to include them in her next comeback and, well, it doesn’t sit right with Momo to tell the whole world about her feelings before she tells the girl in question.  
  
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Haruka says idly while Momo paces his and Shintaro’s room. It’s _Shintaro’s_ room; when Haruka had first come to stay with the Kisaragi family they had cleared out the guest room for him, but he only uses it when he wants to draw in peace or when he's painting. He always falls asleep in Shintaro’s room. Momo and her mom have been trying very hard not to say something about it.  
  
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Momo admits. Shintaro isn’t home, thank god—he’s helping Mom with the grocery shopping. It isn’t that she’s embarrassed about him knowing what she’s doing, but they’ve never been one for earnest heart-to-heart conversations, and so she went to Haruka for advice instead.  
  
Even though Haruka has been living with Shintaro for months and hasn’t said a word about _his_ feelings.  
  
“You’ll be fine,” Haruka says from Shintaro’s bed. He’s leaning back against a giant, sexily posed daikon pillow, his sketchbook propped against his knees. He carefully turns it at an angle, tongue sticking out slightly as he works.  
  
“But what if she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore?” It’s a silly concern. Kido isn’t like that—even if she doesn’t return Momo’s feelings, she knows that while things might be awkward for a bit, Kido would never cut her out of her life. She’s the best friend Momo has ever had.  
  
And it isn’t as if Kido disapproves of such things. Kano makes their preferences no secret and she often titters about Haruka and Shintaro’s idiocy with Momo.  
  
“You know that won’t happen,” Haruka says reasonably, putting her own thoughts to words. “You know if she doesn’t return your feelings, she still loves you as a friend. She wouldn’t do that to you.”  
  
“I know, but...ughhhh,” Momo groans, ceasing her pacing to put her face in her hands despairingly.  
  
Haruka looks up from whatever he’s drawing, expression sympathetic. He looks different now than he did when Momo was in middle school—his hair and eyes both more grey than brown, the mole beneath his eye replaced with something reminiscent of an attempt to doodle a constellation beneath his eye.  
  
Something about him looks wrong. Feels wrong. Feels not quite _normal_ or _human_ ; it’s the same way she had felt around Konoha, but that’s fine. Unsettling presence or not it’s still Haruka. Still Konoha, too.  
  
“You’ll be fine,” Haruka says gently. “Whatever happens, the two of you will be okay.”  
  
“Right,” Momo breathes. “Right. Yeah. I mean, I’ve faced worse. We both have. Way worse than a bit of awkward emotional confessions, haha…” if her laugh is stilted and unsure—which it is—Haruka kindly doesn’t point it out.  
  
Her phone hums in her pocket and she fumbles as she frantically tugs it out, almost dropping it. God, when did her hands get so sweaty?  
  
It’s a text from Mary.  
  
 _Seto and I got Kano to come out with us :) We’ll be back in a few hours. Good luck!_  
  
Momo sucks in a deep, shaking breath.  
  
“That’s my cue. Okay, uh, I’ll be back.”  
  
“Good luck, Momo,” Haruka tells her, his comforting smile widening. “You can do this.”  
  
“Yeah. Yes. I can do this, I—I can do this. If Mom or Shintaro ask, let them know I should be home for dinner and I’ll text if anything changes.”  
  
“Right,” Haruka nods, eyebrows raising. They’ve already talked about this. She stands there, in the middle of her brother's room—much cleaner and less dark and depressing than it would have been last summer—stalling for time.  
  
“...Do I look okay?” Momo blurts out. She had dug out the skirt and leggings she remembers Kido mumbling a compliment about months ago, along with her favorite blouse and short-sleeved hoodie.  
  
“Momo, you look great,” Haruka says, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh. “I promise. Now go get her.”  
  
Right. Okay. It’s the hour of truth, Momo supposes, and she leaves Haruka alone in Shintaro’s room.  
  
She has two, maybe three hours. Luckily for her the apartment her friends live in is only twenty minutes on foot. If she keeps herself calm, she might even make it the whole way unnoticed by the crowds.

* * *

Momo does get noticed.  
  
Luckily it’s only by two people—a pair of middle school girls, wide eyed and red faced as they clumsily ask her for an autograph and selfie. She indulges them despite her rush, always feeling delighted and flattered when fans—especially girls not even that much younger than her—express their admiration for her.  
  
She wonders how many of them will still look at her like that when they find out she doesn’t just like boys. Momo knows it’s a when, not an if; if she starts dating anyone, ever, it’ll get out eventually...and she never wants to keep this piece of her a secret that deeply buried.  
  
It’s becoming a bit more common lately, at least. One of Momo’s senpai at her agency got caught with a man last spring. The approval he had gained had outweighed the disapproval; his teenage fans had flooded him with messages of support and acceptance and gratitude for giving them courage.  
  
She hopes she can be like that, too. Even if her agency drops her she won’t stop making music—she’ll just put everything online. She’s got savings, she has investments her Mom insisted she make, she won’t have to worry about money too much.  
  
But that’s the worst-case scenario. Hopefully, when she either gets caught or makes a statement herself…  
  
She grimaces, turning the street corner and seeing Kido’s apartment. First she has to talk to Kido. If...If Kido wants to be with her, then it’s inevitable that the media will catch wind of her and the others. Momo’s thought about this too. The idea that even if Kido likes her back, the potential media attention will be a deal breaker—  
  
No. Stop that. _Stop getting worked up_ , she tells herself. She’ll cross that bridge if she gets to it.  
  
Momo knocks on the door of their ground-floor apartment. She usually just lets herself in—she has a key and everything, they all do—but it feels weird to do that right now.  
  
“Momo? Did you forget your key?” Kido calls from inside, sounding fondly exasperated. Momo laughs nervously as the door is unlocked and yanked open, revealing Kido herself—she’s wearing less than usual.  
  
No, that’s not right. She’s fully dressed, it’s just, she usually covers as much skin as possible. But. Lately she’s been wearing shorts or skirts, and she’s wearing a pair of cute denim shorts and knee-high socks, though her shirt and hoodie are as baggy as ever.  
  
“Hi,” Momo says, voice higher and more breathless than intended. Kido looks amused.  
  
“Hi,” she says dryly, stepping aside to let Momo in. “It’s good to see you, I know you’ve been busy lately—will you be staying for dinner later? Seto is picking up ingredients for yakiniku on his way home.”  
  
“Shit, that sounds really good…” Momo mutters, toeing out of her shoes. “That would be really nice. If, um, the offer is still open after.”  
  
Kido furrows her brow in concern.  
  
“Why wouldn’t it be?” She asks as a kettle goes off in the kitchen, startling them both.  
  
“Ugh, the tea! Momo, make yourself at home,” Kido says before hurrying off. Momo watches the way her tied-back hair sways as she goes and then slaps her palms to either side of her face.  
  
“Stop _staring_ , idiot,” she mutters to herself, then slips into the fuzzy pink slippers Mary and Kido had picked up for her when she joined the Dan.  
  
She heads to Kido’s room, wedged between the one Seto and Kano share and Mary’s own, and smiles at the sight of Kido’s meticulously made bedding and well-organized shelf of books and CD’s. Her laptop is on the chabudai, still open, and when Momo sits herself down cross-legged on one of the cushions she sees Kido had left it open on a paused video of...an orchestra performing immediately after eating the worlds hottest chili peppers?  
  
It’s frozen on the expression of a red-faced, teary eyed man with a bassoon held up to his mouth. He looks pained.  
  
She snorts, propping her elbow on her knee as she digs out her phone to check her texts. There’s a few in the Dan’s group chat on LINE and then another from her brother in the family chat.  
  
 **Worlds #1 Idiot Genius: they have those weird beat flavored sodas you like should we get some** **  
****Capybara’s ARE cute SHUT UP Shintaro: UM YES? do you have to ask?**  
  
Shintaro’s only answer is a thumbs up emoji, making her roll her eyes and swipe open the Dan’s group chat. Hibiya and Hiyori are arguing about some anime they’ve been watching and which character Ene will like best, since she had apparently asked about the series. Ene seems to have made herself scarce in the ensuing argument, though Ayano interjects while Momo is watching to remind them to finish their homework.  
  
Hibiya and Hiyori go suspiciously quiet after that, hopefully working on the homework they’ve apparently been neglecting as Ene and Ayano discuss their plans to go try a new café that recently opened up.  
  
Seeing Ene so motivated and willing to go out is cheering. It’s not just Shintaro who’s been doing better with that sort of thing. It makes Momo happy to see her brother and her friends improving in these ways, taking steps that seem so small to anyone who isn’t familiar with such matters.  
  
Kido comes in carrying a small tray of tea and cute chocolate-covered biscuits before too long.  
  
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Momo. Kano hid the cookies even though _I’m_ the one who bought them…” she grumbles without any real annoyance as she puts the tray down on the low table, sitting down on the cushion next to Momo’s.  
  
“I barely waited, it’s fine,” Momo says reassuringly, smiling at the way Kido’s hair is coming loose from its ponytail. In the kitchen she clipped her bangs out of her eyes with a cute floral pin.  
  
Momo wants to tell her how pretty she looks. The words stay stuck in her throat as Kido smiles back at her.  
  
“You sounded serious when you called earlier,” Kido says. Her tone is light but from the way she glances at Momo as she reaches for her tea, Momo knows she’s a bit worried. “Is everything alright?”  
  
“Oh, um, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Momo says, fidgeting. “It’s fine. Things are fine! I mean, aside from whatever Haruka and Shintaro are doing. They’re still being stupid. But that’s not it.”  
  
Kido just looks more concerned as she lowers her tea after only one sip. Momo restlessly tugs at the hem of her blouse, thumbing the button at the bottom.  
  
“Then what did you want to talk about?” It’s unusual for Momo to say something as ominous as ‘there’s a thing I wanna talk about, can I come over later?’ Usually she just declares she wants to hang out and barges into the apartment whenever she has the time.  
  
“Um…” Momo’s mind goes blank. She had a whole speech prepared. She can’t remember a single word of it now.  
  
“Are you sure nothing happened? Did something...at work…?” Kido’s concern is sweet. Momo shakes her head, trying to smile.  
  
“No, no. It’s a personal thing! Nothing happened at work or at home, and I’ve been—I’ve been good.” She has been. It’s been a good few weeks for her, with barely any restless dreams or nightmares and not a single panic attack.  
  
“You’re pale,” Kido says, still worried. Momo wants to sink into the floor. She can’t do this. She can’t.  
  
But she has to. She wants to. She wants Kido to know. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, Momo wants her feelings out in the open. She’s terrible at keeping them bottled up, unlike Shintaro.  
  
“I have something to tell you but I don’t know how to say it,” Momo admits, glancing away from Kido’s concerned face. Her hands, fisted in her own shirt, feel sweaty again. “It’s not bad or anything!” She hastens to say, realizing how that sounds. “At least, I don’t think it is?”  
  
“Momo,” Kido says gently, touching her bare arm. Her hand is warmer than it should be from the tea. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?” Her voice dips into anxious concern, like she fears that Momo _doesn’t_ know that. Momo laughs weakly.  
  
“I know. I know, but its, um…” she glances back up at Kido. She’s closer than she had been, her hand still on Momo’s arm, her dark eyes warm with compassion.  
  
Momo wants to kiss her. She looks down at her lap instead.  
  
“I just,” she wets her lips, throat tight and mouth dry. “I just, um. It’s okay if you don’t want to hang out with me for a while, or if things are awkward, but I just wanted you to know that I really, really like you.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I mean, of course I like you,” Momo continues, desperate to fill that silence, her voice cracking a bit. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You know that. But, I mean. I have. Other feelings for you.”  
  
She can never make fun of Shintaro for not being smooth ever again.  
  
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Momo continues. “I hope we can still—”  
  
“Momo,” Kido finally speaks. She says Momo’s name with more breathlessness than is normal. Momo looks up at her, finally, and her face is redder than Momo has seen it since the day Kano ‘accidentally’ dumped half the can of spice into the hotpot they’d had in December.  
  
“You...um. You mean. You like me, as in…” Kido is struggling even more than Momo had been, her eyes flitting about nervously as she tightens her grip on Momo’s arm. “Like. You want to date me?”  
  
“Um. Yes,” Momo admits. Kido looks absolutely feverish, which is how Momo feels, her whole face going hot.  
  
“But you’re an idol,” Kido says. It’s a valid concern. Momo feels hope stirring in her chest at the lack of outright rejection.  
  
“I know. I already thought about that. For as long as I’ve known I like girls too, I knew I wouldn’t want to hide it forever and that it might be a problem. I don’t care if it costs me my contract.” She pauses then, looking at the uncertainty in Kido’s flushed face.  
  
“But if it’s...if you feel the same, and it’s too much risk—the attention, I mean—that’s okay. I understand.” Kido has always avoided the spotlight. The power Azami had given her is a testament to how desperately she’s always wanted to disappear from other people’s sights. Momo still doesn’t know why.  
  
She hopes Kido will tell her someday when she’s ready to talk about it but if she never does, Momo understands. There’s so much about Kido that Momo might never know and she’s okay with that, as long as she can support Kido in some way.  
  
“I…” Kido’s voice fades, her hand slipping from Momo’s arm. Her heart sinks in her chest.  
  
“It’s okay if you don’t,” Momo says quietly. “Feel the same, I mean.”  
  
Kido is quiet for a moment. She looks not at Momo, but down at the floor beneath them. It seems like she’s looking somewhere far away.  
  
“I’ve always been a coward,” Kido finally says.  
  
“That’s not—” Momo starts hastily, but quiets when Kido shakes her head at her.  
  
“It’s true. Ever since I was a child. Even before my mom died. I was always running from her, from other people, from myself. But…” Kido grabs one of Momo’s hands, her fingers closing over the tight-fisted grip Momo has on her blouse hem. Her eyes are watery and her face is turning red once more.  
  
“I don’t want to run from you,” she says. “I’ve liked you for so long. I can’t even remember when it started, but you make me want to be brave. Nobody has ever made me want to stop running the way you have.”  
  
“You make me feel brave, too,” Momo blurts. “Ever since we met, you’ve made me want to be better. To do better. I was running away from all my problems and you gave me the courage to face them head on.”  
  
A smile blooms across Kido’s pink face. It withers just as quickly as it had appeared and Momo’s chest goes from fluttery and warm to cold.  
  
“What is it?” She asks as Kido’s face falls. “You—you said you like me too, right? Is it the media thing?”  
  
“No, not…” Kido trails off, sighing as she takes her hand away from Momo’s. It leaves her skin feeling cold.  
  
“It’s not that. It’s not you, either. Well, it’s kind of the media. It could be annoying about this if they find out,” she says, rubbing her hand across her face. Momo isn’t sure she understands, because it doesn’t sound like Kido is talking about the fact they’re both girls.  
  
“I was going to tell you this anyway,” Kido says, sounding a bit unsure despite her words. “I was planning on saying it soon since we all wanted to go to the beach this summer.”  
  
Momo still doesn’t get it. She waits with obvious confusion and concern on her face.  
  
“I don’t think you’ll mind,” Kido keeps going, her voice almost a mumble now. “I mean, you don’t care about Kano, but...well, you don’t want to _date_ Kano.”  
  
“I really don’t,” Momo agrees, more confused than ever.  
  
“I was raised as a boy,” Kido finally says. She says it quickly, still not quite looking back at Momo. “For the first few years. Mom called me Tsubomi when I told her I didn’t like my old name. My...My father let me keep going like that, and even changed my name legally.” Uneasiness fills Kido’s voice at the mention of her father, as usual, though Momo can’t see what sort of expression she’s making.  
  
Realization shifts across Momo’s own face. That explains the mention of Kano, who wasn’t relevant to this conversation about feelings. Kano’s been incredibly open about their lack of attachment to binary gender norms.  
  
“Oh, Kido, that’s...I don’t care,” she says, then backpedals quickly as Kido looks up in surprise. “I mean, of course I care, it’s really important and I’m really glad you told me—that you trust me, that you were going to say something about it either way, because you didn’t have to and,” she realizes she’s rambling and cuts herself off, taking in a deep breath.  
  
“What I mean is,” she says weakly, “You’re still Kido Tsubomi, the girl who gave me the courage to face the world head on. The girl I like.”  
  
“Can you call me that again?” Kido asks in a mumble, ducking her head. Her ears are red. “My—My first name.”  
  
“Tsubomi,” Momo says. “Tsubomi, I like you. Will you go on a date with me?”  
  
“Yes,” Kido—Tsubomi—says, looking up once more. The smile blooms on her face again. “Yes, I’d love that. I’d love that so much.”  
  
“Can I hug you?” Momo asks, feeling like she might explode if she doesn’t. Tsubomi laughs, throwing her own arms around Momo and pulling her close. Momo laughs, too, pressing her face into Tsubomi’s neck.  
  
She smells like plums. Momo thinks she could write a hundred thousand songs about how it feels to have Tsubomi’s arms around her, to have her arms around Tsubomi, about the way she can hear Tsubomi’s frantically beating heart.  
  
“I wrote a song about you,” Momo mumbles into Tsubomi’s neck as Tsubomi’s plays with the ends of Momo’s hair. The movement pauses. “A few songs, actually. I was—I was going to wait just a bit longer to tell you how I feel, but my manager found them and wants me to use them.”  
  
“You wrote about me,” Tsubomi repeats, sounding stunned. Momo pulls back from her embrace and Tsubomi looks so disbelieving that Momo almost laughs.  
  
“Of course I did. You inspire me so much,” Momo tells her. “I had to get my feelings out somehow, too. I wasn’t sure if you’d like me back, or if you liked girls at all, so I used that to vent them out until I was ready to say something.”  
  
“You wrote about me,” Tsubomi says again. Momo’s amusement contorts into worry.  
  
“I won’t use the songs if it makes you uncomfortable,” Momo tells her, gently squeezing Tsubomi’s shoulders. “I was going to make sure you saw them first anyway. But if it’s—”  
  
“You can,” Tsubomi blurts. “I didn’t—I just didn’t expect that. Nobody’s ever...I don’t mind. I want to see them,” she adds. “I want to hear them. I might not survive it, but I want to.”  
  
She looks so embarrassed that Momo does laugh, this time.  
  
“I was worried for a minute. Of course you can see them. I’ll sing for you, too,” Momo promises, then pauses. “Well. On a day when we have time alone again. Kano would be insufferable, I think.”  
  
“They would be,” Tsubomi agrees in a grumble, her smile back in full force. “Are we...going to tell everyone?”  
  
“If you want,” Momo says as she lets go of Tsubomi’s shoulders. She doesn’t let go of her entirely, though, one of her hands finding Tsubomi’s. “I’d like them to know. I’m not good at hiding my feelings and the past few months have been kind of tough,” she admits. “But I can wait if you want to.”  
  
“No, I don’t mind,” Tsubomi says, leaning into Momo’s side. “I want them to know. Kano will be annoying but none of them will go blasting it online or anything.”  
  
“Exactly,” Momo agrees with a nod, squeezing Tsubomi’s hand. “And, um, I know you’ve already met my mom as my friend, but in a few weeks maybe…” she trails off, face heating up and wondering if that’s too fast. She doesn’t know how people pace relationships and what’s too fast or too slow.  
  
“I’d like that,” Tsubomi says quietly. “I want to bring you to meet my mom, too. Both of them. And my sister.”  
  
Momo knows what that means. It means going to visit graves. She’s genuinely touched by the thought that Tsubomi wants to share that with her; she also knows it means something that Tsubomi doesn’t include her father in this. It’s something she doesn’t ask about.  
  
“I look forward to meeting them,” she says honestly. She makes a note to herself to ask Tsubomi what types of flowers both her late mother’s and sister had liked, but not right now. They can have that conversation another day.  
  
“They’ll like you,” Tsubomi tells her matter-of-factly. “In the meantime...are you staying for dinner?”  
  
Momo grins.  
  
“I’d love to.”  
  
She’s so happy that she can’t even pretend to be annoyed when Haruka texts her _I told you so_ when she tells him she won’t be coming home for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> harukas [sexy daikon pillow](https://www.felissimo.co.jp/int/gcd377994/?vf=09) is real and im obsessed with it. i want one so badly its unreal.
> 
> heres an [actual video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuvUaFp_qMQ) of an orchestra performing after eating the worlds hottest chili peppers 
> 
> fun fact i love coffee and my username is glueskin (cough)


End file.
